Promise Me Tonight
by acciodanrad9
Summary: Petunia Dursley never wanted to get to know her nephew...until one day, when everything changed.


_Another one-shot that I've had in my head for a long time. Just to let you know I almost have my next chapter to "When Your Past Comes To Haunt You" done so I should have that hopefully posted in the next few weeks. School has become really hectic so I don't know when I will have time._

_Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this fic._

I……………….I

**Promise Me Tonight**

Petunia Dursley rapped against her nephew, Harry's, door. The boy still hadn't woken up yet, he could be so lazy sometimes. She had company coming over soon and she needed him to help clean. Of course, Dudley could help, but she didn't want to bug him with the work. He was such a sweet little thing; there was no way she would want to tire him out.

"UP! If you don't open that door this instant I'm going to come in myself!" Getting annoyed with her nephew's behaviour she slammed open the door.

The sight that reached her eyes as she walked in shocked her. Harry's room was pitch black; he had covered the window with a sheet to keep the sunlight from coming in. Glancing at Harry's form on the bed, she noticed that Harry's head was covered with his comforter. This was totally unacceptable! He shouldn't be sleeping in until noon.

"Get up!" she yelled harshly again, while taking the corner of the comforter and pulling it back, exposing Harry, whose eyes were opened half way in shock.

"What?" croaked out Harry; half asleep.

"Don't you 'what' me boy!" Aunt Petunia screamed as she grabbed her nephew's frail arm, pulling him out of his tiny bed, "you need to help me clean. What do you think you're doing sleeping in this late?"

Harry glared at his aunt as he furiously tore his arm away from her grip. "I-I haven't been sleeping well," yelled Harry defiantly.

"I don't care. You should get your sleep during the night like normal people do. I don't want to hear any excuses! We have company coming over today, and you need to move all your stuff down into the cupboard. Go get on with it! I need you to clean some stuff too!"

Harry glared back at his aunt. "Why do I have to move all my stuff to the cupboard? I can just close my door," Harry asked irritated.

"Because," started his aunt, "they are staying for the weekend and need to use this room."

Harry's eyes knitted in confusion. "W-where am I going to sleep then?"

"I hadn't thought of that. I suppose you'll have to sleep in the living room. Can't be putting you in the cupboard-the company will suspect something."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. It was better than anything, he thought- at least he wouldn't have to try and fit into his cupboard.

"Go get cleaned up! You look horrible! I don't want them thinking I don't take care of you," demanded his aunt as she looked at her nephew who had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. Someone really needed to teach this boy how to sleep properly. He shouldn't be staying up at ungodly hours of the night; then lying to her, saying he couldn't sleep well.

Glaring at Harry's back, as he walked into the bathroom, she thought to herself. Harry was never going to change; he was going to stay the same lying, annoying, freak that he was.

I………………………………I

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead with a shaky hand, as he tore another weed from the garden and threw it into a black garbage bag. He couldn't believe how much work his aunt forced upon him since the time he had gotten up. It wasn't his fault, really, that he had slept in late. If he would stop having the painful dreams of Sirius falling through the veil, he might actually fall asleep for once.

He didn't know why he had even bothered to take a shower like his aunt had requested. He was now covered in soil and sweat was streaming down his pale face. He was shaking more now than he had been when he woke up. The fact that he hadn't been able to sneak anything from the kitchen to eat , and that he hadn't had more than five hours asleep in the past two days made him start to feel quite ill.

Suddenly, Harry felt a hand slap the back of his head, making his vision swim dangerously.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" screamed a shrill voice that could be none other than his aunt.

"Pulling weeds," replied Harry rudely, as he rubbed the palm of his hand to the back of his head.

"Don't talk to me like that, boy. Why did you pull out one of my lovely roses then?" she questioned as she shook the rose in front of Harry's face.

Harry tensed up. This was not good. Pulling one of his aunt's roses out might almost signal as a death wish. "I-I'm sorry. I di-didn't realize."

"No, you didn't. What am I going to do with you? You can't do anything right. Get up!"

Quickly Harry got up. He had to grab onto the rail of the fence to steady himself as his head pounded furiously.

"What is wrong with you?"

Harry dropped his arm to his side. "I'm not feeling very well."

" Just an excuse," his aunt muttered, "quickly- go inside. You're dinner is on the table. The Greens' are going to be here soon and you need to help me finish making dinner."

"Okay," said Harry as he walked into the kitchen. Harry felt relived to feel cool air on his hot skin; he grimaced at what he saw on the table when he took his seat. It didn't look like his dinner was going to be appetizing or filling. Laying on his plate, was a piece of bread, cheese, and an apple.

He finished his dinner in a matter of minutes. Getting up he went to go rinse off his plate. "Aunt Petunia?" Harry called.

"Are you done yet boy?"

"Yeah, I'm done. What do you want me to do?" Harry asked, as his aunt came into the kitchen a scowl plastered on her face, no doubt directed towards her nephew. Harry hated it when she looked like that at him, it always made him feel low-lower than dirt.

"Just make the table. Set for six. I don't want you to do any cooking, who knows what you could end up messing up."

Harry nodded his head and grabbed the set of dishes and silverware that his aunt had laid out for him to place on the table.

Setting the last fork onto the table Harry heard the doorbell ring. He lifted his head up towards his aunt, to see if she was going to signal him to go and get it.

"You," his aunt pointed at him, "stay in here. I don't want you messing anything up this weekend. Understand? You will behave yourself and do what any of the Greens' ask."

Harry weakly nodded his head. If he could be anywhere else, he would want to be anywhere but here. This was going to be a dreadful weekend. How were these people going to act around him? They definitely weren't going to be nice to him, given they were his uncle's friends. Just the thought of all the stories he must have told them send a shiver down his spine.

Peering at his aunt, Harry watched her open the door. Three people entered the house, a husband, wife, and a son, who looked to be just the same age as Dudley. Great, sighed Harry, that's just going to make it even better.

Dudley and the boy, Dennis, walked in, both laughing at one another's jokes. "Oh, is this your cousin then?" Dennis asked; a grimace plastered on his thin face.

"Yeah, it's him all right. I wouldn't fool with him too much, there's no telling what he could be up to," told Dudley as he walked closer to Harry, shoving Harry into the corner of the counter.

Harry winced as the corner dug into his back, while he watched Dudley and Dennis walk away grins plastered on their faces.

Harry watched as everyone started to take their places at the table. While looking at the floor, trying to keep people's attention away from him, Mrs. Green walked up to him, a smile on her face.

"Hello dear, I'm Mrs. Green. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard so much-" she abruptly stopped, remembering that everything she had heard wasn't pleasant. Smile still on her face, she raised her hand out in a greeting.

Harry nervously shook hands with the women. "Nice to meet you too," whispered Harry. He hated it when his uncle's friends tried to talk to him, especially when they knew made up stories his uncle had told them.

"BOY!" screamed Uncle Vernon, making Harry jump, "start serving the food now!"

Harry sighed as he walked to the stove and started serving food. This was going to be a horrible night, he thought to himself.

I………………………I

Harry had successfully served the dinner with out any mishaps, which made Harry's spirits brighten- a little. This dinner was going to be over soon, and then everything would be fine, he hoped.

Dennis and Dudley had been giving him odd looks throughout the whole dinner, which was starting to make him increasingly worried. He continued to stand next to the counter, incase someone needed something. Harry knew that they were talking about him, which could not be good.

"Hey, Potter," screamed Dennis, making Harry jump up, "I need some more water over here."

Harry grabbed the pitcher of water off the counter and started to walk towards Dennis's spot on the table. He could hear Mrs. Green berating her son for talking rudely to him, but he knew that neither of them really cared.

He was just nearing the table, when Dudley stuck out his foot, effectively tripping him. Luckily, he didn't land flat on his face but his whole body rammed into the table.

"Sorry, sorry," murmured Harry, whose cheeks grew red with embarrassment. Just when everything was going right-he had to go and fall for one of Dudley's tricks.

His uncle looked ready to strangle him as his aunt gave him a big glare, while apologizing to everyone for his 'atrocious behaviour.'

"You all right, dear?" asked Mrs. Green a hint of concern etched in her voice. Mrs. Green had been acting nice to him since she arrived and Harry couldn't help but wonder why. Maybe it was just another one of his relatives' tricks.

Harry nodded his head; while he poured Dennis his water. Quickly he walked back to his position by the counter.

"Potter, where are your parents'? Don't you think you should be there instead of here, wasting your aunt and uncle's time?" asked Dennis rudely.

Harry cleared his throat. He would not let Dennis get to him. "Oh, um, they-they died in a car crash."

"Did they?"

Harry nodded his head as he looked at all six people now looking back and forth from Harry and Dennis. His relatives knew that this was a sensitive subject.

"Yeah, his parents' didn't love him," Dudley butted in, laughing the whole time.

Mrs. Green looked too shocked to say anything while her husband continued to stare at Harry like he had grown an extra head.

Nervous, Harry scratched the back of his neck. He really, really wanted to leave. This was starting to get out of hand. "Um…"

"See, he can't deny it," laughed Dudley.

"That's not true," Harry blurted out, "they-they loved me." Great, now he just sounded like a baby.

"Are you sure about that Potter? If they loved you, then why would they just leave you? Just like that!"

"SHUT UP!"

Uncle Vernon quickly stood up and stomped over to Harry and grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling him into the living room.

"What do you think you are doing?" roared his uncle, still gripping his shirt while shaking him a little.

"Nothing."

"You are making a mess. You're making me look bad. You will go into the kitchen and start washing dishes until we are done! DO NOT TALK TO ANYONE-UNDERSTOOD?"

Harry glared as he nodded his head and stalked back into the kitchen, his mood considerably lower than earlier.

I……………………………I

Petunia heard a quiet voice address her and she turned around sharply to see her nephew now clothed in pajamas, staring at her. "What is it?"

"I-I was wondering if I could have a pillow?" Harry asked his eyes firmly placed on the ground.

"They're in the closet over there, grab yourself a blanket too," said his aunt with malice in her voice.

Harry walked over to the closet and pulled out a pillow and blanket.

"Night," Harry.

"Night, Harry," responded Mrs. Green.

"That boy can be so infuriating sometimes," sighed Petunia as she took a sip of her tea.

"You know, Petunia, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Harry, I mean."

"Why? What's there to say?"

"I've heard stories from Vernon about Harry. But he doesn't seem as bad as you make him. Maybe you should just get to know him. It looks like he could use someone to talk to."

"You don't understand. This boy-he-he does everything wrong. Nothing he can do is right."

"Maybe, Petunia dear, you make yourself think that he's a bad person, but you don't get to look at who he truly is. Have you looked at him recently? He looks so sad, Petunia, he has dark circles under his eyes, and when I shook his hand today he was shaking. Petunia, you have to talk to him."

"I-I can't. Every time I look at him, I-" That was all Petunia could seem to say. Her resolve was starting to crack.

"You don't hate him because of Lily do you?" asked Mrs. Green, sensing the problem.

Petunia turned her eyes away from her friend, "You don't understand, Melanie, every time I look into his eyes, I think of Lily."

"I know, Petunia, I can see it in your eyes. Look, it's getting late. Just try won't you? To talk to him. You don't have to like him-you don't have to talk to him ever again. Just do it once. Maybe you'll make him think someone cares-even if you truly don't."

Petunia nodded her head somberly as Melanie got up. "Well, I'm going to go to bed. See you in the morning, Petunia."

"Night, Melanie."

I……………………..I

She didn't know when she had walked into the living room, but Petunia Dursley found herself leaning against the wall, watching her nephew sleep. Maybe Melanie was right, she thought to herself, maybe she did hate Harry because he reminded her of Lily.

Her nephew had his head buried in the side of the couch, while the blanket he had gotten from the closet almost covered his whole head. He was breathing deeply and would occasionally mutter or whimper. He seemed to be in the mists of a nightmare.

Harry turned over on his back, his eyes turned downwards in a grimace. Petunia continued to watch. Maybe he wasn't sleeping well? Maybe he had nightmares, but why?

Suddenly, he shot straight up, making Petunia take a small step back in surprise. She continued to watch Harry as he placed the palm of his hands to his forehead, as if he had a headache. She noticed that Harry was shaking. What was making him have trouble sleeping and seem so troubled afterwards?

Harry, then, tossed the blanket off of his legs and bent down to retrieve his glasses that were stationed next to the couch. After he placed his glasses on his face he stood up, making his way towards the kitchen, his eyes downwards on the floor.

Harry lifted his head up as he neared the doorway to the kitchen and gave a sudden gasp when he met eyes with his aunt. Petunia walked closer to where her nephew had stopped.

"Shush boy, you'll wake somebody up."

"I'm sorry; you just surprised me, is all."

"Well you had better be," hissed Petunia. She had been down here in hope that she could talk to Harry like Melanie has suggested and she had already started out rudely, but the boy made her so mad.

Harry rolled his emerald eyes and sighed. "You can go back upstairs now, I'm just going to get a drink," Harry moved past her but Petunia stopped him by grabbing the sleeve of his pajamas.

"What-"

"Where did you get these," Petunia asked as she got a good view of the pajamas her nephew was wearing.

"What do you mean?"

"These," she said as she grabbed at the material, "aren't Dudley's."

"Yeah, I know. I bought them in Hogs-at my school."

"Why?" his aunt asked rudely.

"Because Dudley's clothes didn't fit me-they are too big."

"So? We gave you those clothes out of the kindness of our hearts and you go and don't use them."

"They were uncomfortable. The shirt would keep coming off my shoulder."

Aunt Petunia glared. "And where did you get the money to buy those pajamas?"

Harry tensed up. He was supposed to keep the news of his money secret. "Um…ah…my friend-Hermione she bought them for me. Why do you care anyway? This is ridiculous."

That was it. He had made her too mad and without thinking she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the cheek, making him almost loose his balance. Her wedding ring accidentally cutting at his cheek, drawling blood.

Harry quickly brought his hand up to his cheek. Realizing it was bleeding, he looked up at his aunt, hurt and fear radiating from behind his emerald eyes. He looked so vulnerable there, and it made something in Petunia hurt. Was it pity or love? She didn't know.

Petunia walked into the bathroom where Harry had retreated to. He had grabbed a washcloth, wetted it, and had it now placed upon the cut. Harry glanced into the mirror, and saw his aunt's reflections. "What do you want?"

"Po-Harry, I'm-I'm sorry." And she really was.

"You don't need to apologize. I know you don't mean it," said Harry as he turned around to face her.

The cut must have been deeper than Petunia suspected because blood was already seeping through the washcloth. She really needed to learn to control her anger while she was around him. She had wanted to talk to him, not hurt him.

"Here let me look at it," demanded his aunt as she grabbed the cloth from Harry's hand.

"No, I've got it," stated Harry as he tried to leave the bathroom.

"Harry, sit down. It's still bleeding. Sit down on the toilet. I need to disinfect it-the cuts pretty deep."

"I can take care of myself," mentioned Harry as he sat down on the toilet.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure," replied Petunia sarcastically.

"Well, I've done it my whole life."

Petunia stopped what she was doing and looked at her nephew who was sitting on the toilet, more interested on the bottom of his shirt than anything else.

"Look at me. This will sting a bit." She demanded as Harry reluctantly turned his head. She gently placed a finger underneath Harry's chin so she could see the cut better. She wiped some blood off of her nephew's cheek and then applied the disinfectant. She felt Harry tense up, the disinfectant obviously stinging him. "I'm almost done, hold still."

"Thanks," said Harry as his aunt finished applying the disinfectant onto the cut, which had stopped the bleeding.

Harry stood up, wanting to leave. He and his aunt were rarely ever alone unless she was barking orders and Harry had to admit it made him extremely uncomfortable.

"Where are you going?" asked his aunt as he walked out of the door.

"Back to bed." And without an answer Harry walked out of the bathroom and to the couch, hoping his aunt wouldn't follow him.

Surprisingly, a few minutes later, his aunt walked in to the living room again, a cup of water in her hands.

"You never got your drink- here," said Aunt Petunia as she handed her nephew a glass of water.

"Umm…thanks," replied Harry as he took a sip.

Harry watched as his aunt took a seat on a chair next to him, her eyes staring at him.

"Harry, I want to talk to you."

Harry choked on his water as he turned to stare at his aunt. "What?"

"Harry, I want to talk to you. I want to try and get to know you."

Harry blinked at her like she was nuts. Which, she probably was. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, Harry. I'm fine." She took a deep breath. "But, I'm not sure you are."

Harry shook his head. "Oh, I'm fine, really," responded Harry as he looked the other direction.

"Harry, lately, I've been noticing that you've been sleeping in late-and you're shaking. What's wrong?"

Harry cleared his throat, as if he couldn't find out what to say. "Nothing, I've just had trouble sleeping."

"I don't believe you. You're having nightmares; they have to be affecting you. What are they of?"

"Why do you care?" hissed Harry, an angry glint in his eyes.

"Because Harry, Melanie told me that she felt you shaking-"

"Oh, so you're just talking to me because your friend was worried. Didn't want her to wonder, didn't want her to think that you really 'don't' care about me-didn't want her to think you were abnormal. I thought-god, I'm so stupid. I thought you had actually came down here to-you know what, never mind."

"Harry it's not like that."

"Then what is it? That all of a sudden you actually care about me? That you want to get to know me? You know, I've lived here my whole life and the whole time you've pushed me away, called me freak, treated me like a slave and I'm just suppose to think you care?" Harry's voice cracked at his words.

Those words tore at Petunia's heart and she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. Harry was right; she had pushed him away and intentionally. She didn't want to associate with her nephew-he was a freak. But she never once, got to know him, really know him, and now, when her nephew was use to having no one take care of him, she wanted to get to know him more than anything.

"Harry, please. I'm so sorry about the way I've treated you. I know it sounds unrealistic. But Melanie made me realize that I was mean to you before I even got to know you. I've seemed to hate you because of my sister-Lily. Every time I look at you, you remind me of her, and sometimes I can't stand it."

"My mum? You've hated me all this time because I remind you of my mum?" whispered Harry. "You treated me like crap my whole life because of that?"

Petunia felt a tear slip down her face.

Hearing no response from his aunt, Harry shook his head and laid down, his back towards is aunt. "I thought so," he replied.

His last comment brought Petunia to full tears. She cried for Harry and the fact that she had missed watching him growing up, the fact that she had never once gotten to know him.

Getting her courage, she walked over to the couch and cleared her throat. "Harry? Harry, please I know you're awake," she gently shook his shoulders to try and get his attention and she felt him tense up.

"What?" he asked.

"Can you promise me something?" She didn't know what she wanted to get from Harry, but she knew one thing. She wanted to get to know him.

Harry started into her eyes. "Fine."

"Promise me, that even if you don't believe it, promise me that we can talk, get to know each other, because I've realized just in this short time that I've missed you growing up. I don't know anything about you."

"You don't care what I have to say. It's against your rules."

"Harry, please, I don't care, just tell me."

Harry was quiet for awhile and finally, he answered. "Yeah, I promise. Just don't lead me on or anything-don't lie to me, okay. I don't think I can take that."

Petunia nodded her head in understanding as Harry turned his head back away from her. She didn't know how long she sat there watching Harry lay there, his eyes open, too afraid to fall asleep.

That night they both found an understanding in each other that her, nor Harry, could ever explain.

I…………………..I

_I hope you enjoyed this. Please review._


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